Bully Bucky
by Britt30
Summary: James Buchanan Barnes is a bully on and off the playground and his favorite person to pick on? Steve Rogers. Just a little headcanon about how Bucky and Steve could have become friends. They're in sixth grade.
1. Chapter 1

Oh great. That kid again. A jerk if I ever saw one.

James Buchanan Barnes; tall, handsome, smart, sportsy, practically perfect in everyway.

Well except for one. He's the biggest bully in school. Picks on anyone smaller (and a few people bigger), than him, just for the fun of it.

Unfortunately, I (Steve Rogers), am one of his favorite targets. I don't like bullies and I never back down from a fight. He gets a kick out of beating me up. Literally.

Anyway, he and his gang approach me at their normal, sauntering walk. I'm sitting down, my back to a tree, eating my lunch.

"Rogers," he smirks as they approach.

"Barnes," I reply, standing up and clenching my fists. He grins down at me, seeing as he's a foot taller than me

"Whatcha got there?" he asks

"Lunch," I reply tersely.

"Hm… Well, I don't know about you boys, but I'm pretty hungry. How about you hand it over Rogers. Things don't have to get ugly." I almost smile.

"It always gets ugly Barnes. Let's just get it over with." I drop my apple on the ground and raise my fists, like I do every time.

I've gotten better at fighting. And by better I mean I can at least dodge a few punches. Before long, I'm on the ground once, twice, three times, until they finally walk away, taking my lunch with them. Maybe if my lunch didn't get stolen so much I wouldn't be as skinny.

Man, I hate that kid. I see him shove a fourth grader as he walks by and makes her fall to the ground. His friends laugh. Making a decision, probably a stupid one, I stand up and clutching my ribs, quickly hobble to catch up with him. Bravely, I tap him on the shoulder and as he turns around, I punch him in the nose. He reels back and it seems as if everyone on the playground stops to look at us. Barnes turns to face me and wipes blood from his nose. He laughs.

"Well, punk, I knew you got guts, but that was just downright stupid." With a wave of his hand he motions his gang behind him and lunges at me. We scuffle on the ground and a ring of students form around us all yelling, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Somehow I manage to keep him from pinning me down and even manage to get in a few hits. It's all dust, blood, and grunts down here. The roar of the crowd just makes us both fight harder.

But, inevitably, Barnes finally gets on top of me and pummels my face over and over. The pain numbs my senses and I don't even notice when Barnes is pulled off of me and we're both dragged to the principal's office. We are both handed ice packs and sit there in stony silence until Barnes gets called in. It seems like forever until he comes out. His hands are in his pockets and he looks angry.

"Your turn," he grunts. I stand up and as I walk past him, he trips me. I end up sprawled on the floor and he runs down the hallway, sniggering. Cursing under my breath, I pick myself up and walk in the room.

"Sit down, Mr. Rogers." I carefully sit down and wait to be chewed out.

"How's your home life Steve?" the principal asks.

"Just fine." I can already see where this is going.

"Now, your mother is single, isn't she?" He knows very well that she is, but I still reply,

"Yes, sir." The principal sighs.

"Steve, I know you don't have a father anymore, and I understand that must be hard, but you shouldn't get into fights just t-"

"With all due respect, sir, that has absolutely nothing to do with it!" It's a struggle for me to stay seated.

"Now don't get angry son. It's just that over the last month you've gotten into a lot of fights. I understand you want atten-"

"I don't care about getting attention! I just can't stand bullies. If any of this has to do with my father's death, it's that he taught me that you have to stand up to them. You can't start running from them or you'll never stop." The principal is silent for a moment as he tries to figure out what to do with me.

"Don't let it happen again," he finally says. "Dismissed." I stoically leave his office and start to head home. Mom will be worried sick by now. I get jumped twice on the way home only to be left in the dirt when they've had their fun and realize I don't have any money. I don't even notice when I start to cry.

Why? Why me? I never have what they want and I've never done anything to them. So why do they pick on me so much? It hurts so much. Physically and emotionally.

"Why?" I choke out quietly. I run the rest of the way home, letting the tears fly until I get to our apartment building. I quickly wipe my eyes and stop my tears before heading up. I have to be strong for Mom. I have to be strong for Dad. There's no one to protect me, so I have to be strong for myself.

Tonight after Mom had patched me up and was tucking me in, she leaned down and kissed my head.

"Steve. Promise me you'll remember one thing."

"What?" I ask sleepily.

"Bullies weren't always bullies and they may not always be." I curl under the covers.

"Mmkay," I mumble, and drift off to sleep.


	2. CAP-ter 2 (Ha, puns)

**A/N: Hi! Sorry for the long wait! I have no excuse other than I forgot. Anyway, enjoy!**

The next week goes by quickly and quietly. I don't get into any fights, though Barnes and I throw nasty looks at each other in the halls. It's only after school the next Monday that things really start to change. As I'm leaving I see Barnes steal someone's lunch from their backpack and run out of the school.

_Sorry Mom,_ I think as I run out after him. I follow him outside and am surprised to see him go to the back of the school. I peer carefully around the corner and see him hand the paper sack to a small, skinny girl with brown pigtails.

"Sorry Becca. That's all I managed to get today," he tells her.

"That's ok Bucky! We can share!" She pulls out an apple and offers it to him and he waves it away.

"Naw sis. You need it more than I do."

"Well, if you're sure..."

"Hey, don't worry. I can get by. And besides it's only until next year."

"Yeah!" says Rebecca, suddenly brightening. "When you get accepted to the Academy and we get to live there and we'll get lunch everyday!"

"Exactly kid." They begin to walk away and I lean back against the wall and thought about the conversation I had just heard. I had heard Barnes' mom was dead, but I didn't know they were struggling this much. Maybe he wasn't a bully because he was mean, but because he had to.

It was a sobering thought. As I walk home, I come up with a plan as to what I'll do. I just hope it doesn't backfire.

The next day at lunch it seems we're back to our old routine. I'm eating my lunch alone by the tree when Barnes and his gang approach me.

"Hey Rogers! Whatcha got today?"

"Still just lunch," I reply. This time, I don't stand up. Instead, I hold the bag out to him.

"What's this?" he asks, obviously confused.

"I told you, lunch. I thought we'd skip the ugly part today." He still hasn't taken it, but laughs and looks at me like what-are-you-doing.

"Is the famous Steve Rogers finally backing out of a fight?" His gang laughs with him.

"Nope," I reply. "Just avoiding one today." I throw the bag at him and he catches it. He gives me a weird, and somewhat suspicious, look.

"You're off the hook for today Rogers. Come on," he tells his gang and they saunter off. I slump against the tree again. That went a lot better than it could have.


	3. Chapter 3

The week passes by quietly. I'm surprised I haven't gotten rough housed by Barnes yet, but he's been keeping his distance. On Friday, I'm leaving the school building and am outside when I hear someone whimper.

I turn around and see Rebecca Barnes huddled in a seldom used doorway, crying.

_Don't do it Steve,_ I tell myself. _Barnes won't like it._ But of course I don't listen to myself and walk over to her.

"Um… are you ok?" I ask lamely. She looks up at me surprised. She didn't hear me coming. Instead of saying something, she huddles back down. I sigh and squat down in front of her.

"What's wrong?" I ask. She peers up at me through long, brown eye lashes.

"It's nothing…" she whispers.

"Are you sure? Because, well, it doesn't seem like nothing." Rebecca wipes her nose on her sleeve.

"Some girls were being mean to me at recess. They- they called me mean things."

"Yeah?" I say, moving around to sit next to her. She nodded.

"Because my clothes are so old and, and because I don't have a mom." I see more tears welling up in her eyes. Against my better judgement, I put my arm around her shoulders.

"That's ok. I get made fun of for not having a dad." Rebecca looks up at me.

"Really? What do you do?" she asks. Skipping the part about all the fights I get into, I reply,

"I just remember that what they say, doesn't make me who I am; I decide who I am. I did have a dad once, and remembering that takes away some of the hurt." She sniffles ponderously.

"Ok. Thanks." She grins a little and I smile back. I'm just starting to stand up when I hear someone yelling.

"Hey! Get away from her!" Before I can even think of running, I'm tackled to the ground by all one hundred pounds of James Buchanan Barnes. He twists my arm around my back and considering how weak my bones are, it might very well break.

"What did you do to her!" he shouts in my ear.

"Nothing! I swear! Get off of me!" He pulls my arm back farther.

"James! Stop that this instant!" Barnes relaxes twisting my arm to peer at his little sister.

"Was this punk bothering you Rebecca?" She shakes her head furiously and tries to pull him off of me.

"No! He was trying to make me feel better."

"Really?" he asks dubiously, staring down at me.

"Yes! Please, get off of him." Reluctantly, Barnes lets my arm go and stands up. I shakily stand myself and am on the balls of my feet in case he takes a swing at me. He looks at me appraisingly, as if seeing me in a new way. He jerks his head.

"Don't mess with my sister. Now get out of here, punk." Barnes puts his arm around his sister's shoulders and they walk off, though Rebecca does turn around and wave at me.

I can't help but wave back.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Wow. This one's long. Lucky you guys. Please let me know what I can be doing better! Thanks and enjoy!**

I'm about halfway home when I hear voices coming from one of the alleys. They sound threatening. I peer around the corner carefully. A boy is backed up against the wall, surrounded by five other guys.

"You're getting soft James," says the ring leader. My eyes widen in shock when I realize that it's Barnes' second in command, Jonathan, and the boy against the wall is Barnes. His own cronies have turned on him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Barnes states bravely. The others laugh and move closer.

"You haven't picked a fight in weeks. You've especially been avoiding Rogers. You afraid he's going to beat you?" Barnes' scoffs.

"As if. That kid can't even block a punch, much less throw one. I'm the best fighter at this school." His voice seems shaky. It's as though the group can smell his fear, and they move closer.

"Prove it," Jonathan whispers. "Fight us." Without any warning, he throws the first punch. It's a brutal fight, and the thought runs through my mind of helping Barnes out, but I feel like I'd just be more of a hinderance. I would just prove Jonathan's point even more.

Though Barnes makes a valiant effort, he never stood a chance. His ex-cronies file out, nursing their wounds, and pass me by. Once they're gone, I go to help Barnes.

I'm surprised he's still conscious. He's clutching his nose and rib and trying not to cry. I've been where he is all too often, so I kneel down and help him sit up.

"Oh, it's you," he mutters darkly. "Get off of me." He shoves me away and pinches his nose trying to stop the bleeding. He looks at the ground. "How much of that did you see?"

"All of it," I admit. He sighs. I try and soothe his ego and say, "You certainly gave as good as you got."

"Yeah? Serves them right, the traitors." I stay quiet. He removes his hand from his nose and looks at the blood on his hand. I peer a little closer and he glares at me suspiciously.

"You're lucky; it's not broken." _Wouldn't want to wreck your pretty boy face. _"You should let me check your ribs."

"No way," Barnes protests, tries to move away, and yelps in pain.

"Just let me see if it's broken."

"How would you even know?" he accuses.

"Because I've had three. Sit up straighter." To my surprise, he actually does it. I check his ribs in silence until he asks quietly,

"Was I the one who broke them?"

"Just one of them."

"Oh, sorry." I shrug, as though it's nothing.

"One of yours is broken and at least two more are bruised."

"Good to know." He grips the wall and pulls himself to his feet. "See you around Rogers." He takes a step and gasps in pain as his leg buckles beneath him. He grips the wall harder and stays upright.

"Guess you missed one Rogers," he says through gritted teeth and attempts to take another step. I barely manage to stop him from falling.

"You're gonna need help getting home with that bad of a sprain."

"Not from the likes of you! I'll manage."

"There's no way you'll make it," I tell him.

"How would you know?"

"Because I've had to do it before and couldn't do it." I don't mention that I passed out five blocks from home and a cop car picked me up. I later found out that it was a compound fracture. Barnes just laughs at me, then winces in pain.

"I'm way stronger than you. I can do it." He starts to walk and I see him biting his lip, trying to hide the pain.

_Why am I even helping this guy? _I wonder as I grab his shoulder.

"Look. My house is just a few blocks away. We can go there, wrap your foot, and then you can walk home without having to be seen with me following you to make sure you get there." He smirks.

"You would actually do that? Do you know how much I'd make you pay if you followed me home?" For the first time though, there's no real malice behind those words.

"Well you certainly won't be doing it anytime soon. Come on."

I end up being his crutch as we make our way to my apartment. Barnes is white as a sheet after we've climbed the stairs and doesn't wait for an invitation before collapsing on a kitchen chair, breathing heavily. I pull another chair over and put a pillow on it.

"Put your foot here," I tell him. He looks at me quizzically but does it.

"Why?"

"Elevating it will keep it from swelling too much," I call to him and I go to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. As I'm searching through the kit back in the kitchen, Barnes says,

"You were right. I couldn't have made it." My eyes widen in shock that he would admit he was, well, weak. I don't know what to say, so I grab an ice pack from the freezer. My mom always has one on hand, and you can probably guess why. She's at work right now, which I'm grateful for; less awkward questions.

"Catch." Barnes catches the ice pack without glancing at it. I also toss him a wet wash cloth to clean the blood off.

We work in silence. He patches up his face while I wrap his ankle. He winces every once in a while, but doesn't tell me if it hurts him. Once we finish I ask him,

"Want something to eat?" Mom and I may not have a lot right now, but there's a little to spare. Barnes nods.

"That'd be great." I quickly make two PB&amp;J sandwiches and hand one to him. He keeps looking at me peculiarly; as if I'm doing something odd.

"What?" I finally ask him, after I swallow a bite.

"Why the heck are you doing this? I've only ever been a bully to you." He seems genuinely confused.

I think about it for a moment. Why am I helping this kid? It takes me a moment before I respond.

"Because I don't think you're mean just for the fun of it. I think you do it because you have to, for Rebecca. And I think you could be better than that. You don't have to be a bully forever." Barnes looks around the room, at his sandwich, and then finally back to me, with an appraising stare.

"You know Rogers, I thought you were pretty stupid for never backing down from a fight. I always thought you wanted the attention. But, now, I think you do it because you can't stand to see someone else be picked on. I respect that." Then he does something I never expected; he holds out his hand. Uncertainly, I reach back, and we shake hands.

"You're not so bad Rogers." He stuffs the other half of his sandwich in his pocket. "I better be getting home though. Becca will be worried." I gesture to his pocket.

"Saving that for her?" He nods. I get the peanut butter out again and make another sandwich while ignoring his protests.

I hand it to him and say, "Take it. She needs it." Barnes sighs, but takes the sandwich. I help him stand and walk outside.

"Thanks," he says. "For everything."

"Don't mention it," I reply. "See ya around Barnes." He waves and I go back inside.

Did I just make a friend out of James Barnes?


	5. Chapter 5

A few days later, I see Barnes trying to eat his lunch in peace, but Jonathan and the rest of the gang surround him. I can hear them laughing and see them take his lunch and start tossing it around. I can't take it anymore and walk up to them, as bravely as I can manage.

"Hey! Leave him alone!" They all turn to look at me, including Barnes, who, along with looking surprised, also looks relieved (grateful, happy, thoughts?).

"And what's a loser like you gonna do about it?" Jonathan asks as he marches up to me. I hold my ground, even though he's as tall as Barnes.

"Give it back to him," I say, forcing myself to stand still.

"Hm. How about, no." I try and block the punch, but it's like trying to stop a train, and his punch sends me reeling. His friends egg him on as they surround us, he punches me again, and I stumble back farther.

"Get him Jon!"

"Yeah! Show him!"

"Come here, you scrawny little-" but he was cut off by a shove from behind. He snarled and turned around, to be met with the fist of James Buchanan Barnes. Barnes punched him in the jaw and I was shocked that _he _would defend _me._

Jonathan rubs his jaw and glares at Barnes, who is putting most of his weight on his good foot.

"I thought I taught you a lesson," he snarks.

"I'm a slow learner," Barnes replies and lunges. He tackles Jonathan to the ground and they scuffle. Jon's friends cheer even louder and I'm left on the ground, waiting for a chance to help. Jon jabs him in the ribs and Barnes yelps in pain. Jon grins and hits him there again before hitting his face and shoving Barnes back to the ground. He accidentally hits his bad leg, and Barnes tries to muffle a yell.

"Oh does that hurt?" Jonathan puts his knee on it and starts to press down. "Remember this, next time you think you're the best fighter in sc-augh!" He's cut off mid sentence as I tackle him to the ground and he gets a mouthful of dirt. I hear Barnes sigh in relief before he helps me with Jonathan.

Jon's friend don't think this is fair and one of them picks me up from behind and we start to tussle. Another one takes on Barnes and before I know what's happening, I'm in the middle if a full blown school yard brawl. I don't even know who I'm hitting or who's hitting me as I flail with my fist.

A shrill whistle cuts through the dust. A teacher is coming to break it up. The other boys scatter, but my medical conditions and Barnes' busted foot prevent us from making a getaway. The teacher looks down on us and sighs.

"You two, again? Principal's office, now." Without really thinking about it, Barnes and I help each other up and hobble to the principals office. If the teacher thinks it's weird that we're helping each other, she doesn't mention it.

"Thanks," he mutters as we wait outside the office, dreading our punishment. "For standing up for me. You're the last person I'd expect it from."

"I'm pretty sure Jonathan can take my place now."

Barnes laughs. "Yeah, that's true." The principal calls him in. "See ya later punk."

"See ya... jerk."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Here we are old friends, you and me, on the last chapter. Thank you all for reading and enjoy!**

So Barnes and I aren't enemies anymore, but we aren't friends either. His old posse mainly ignores him now; they don't think he's worth their time. He's also stopped bullying. Well for the most part anyway. There's been a couple of days when he shoves me around or makes a scathing remark, but I ignore them now. He's just having a bad day. More often than not, we nod to each other in the halls and sometimes sit by each other during lunch.

It's Friday and as soon as the school bell rings, everyone rushes out the door. The crowd surges around me and sends me to the floor. As the last stragglers leave, I brush myself off and stand. I hear something around the corner.

"I said stop Stan! I don't like you! Leave me alone!"

"Ah come on Sally, please."

"I said no you creep!" I peer around the corner and see a tall fifth grader leaning in to kiss the unwilling girl. His friend is standing in the doorway, rolling his eyes.

"Hey! Leave her alone." Stan stops mid pucker and glares at me. Sally let's out a small sigh of relief, but he's still too close for comfort to her. His friend bats him on the shoulder.

"He's a nobody. Let's go."

"Fine." Stan goes for another kiss and Sally looks terrified. So of course I, being the self righteous idiot that I am, kick Stan in the shin. Hard.

"Ouch! You little-! I'll kill you!" I rattle off a string of insults and yell,

"Gotta catch me first!" That should do the trick. I start running. Off the school yard, down the street, around a couple of corners.

I duck through the crowds on the sidewalk, trying to get away. Now, I don't run from fights, but in this case I'm leading them away from someone, so it doesn't count. I can hear them behind me. I turn a corner, hoping to find a back door, or outlet, or _something, _but find a dead end behind a restaurant instead. The two boys turn the corner behind me and block off my only escape route. My breath is coming in raspy gasps and not for the first time, I curse my asthma.

They waste no time on words and skip immediately to the pummelling. A hard punch in the gut sends me to the ground. There's a trash can lid by my side. As one of them aims for another hit, I lift the lid, using it as a shield. A loud clang reverberates in the air as his fist strikes the metal. He swears loudly. His friend easily takes the shield from me and flings it back down the alley way. A kick to my stomach knocks the breath out of me and I can't get it back in. They toss me in the dumpster and laugh.

"What a loser," one of them says.

"Seriou-oof." I hear some scuffling and some smacks and can tell there's a fight going on, though I'm more concerned about getting air into my lungs. A moment later there are receding footsteps and then someone approaches the dumpster.

It's Barnes.

He jumps in with me.

"You alright Rogers?" he asks. I shake my head no. I'm having an asthma attack. I need my inhaler. His brow furrows.

"Inhaler," I manage to gasp out. The pressure on my lungs is getting more painful. His eyes widen as he finally understands. Barnes leaps back out of the dumpster and I can hear him tearing through my backpack, until I hear a shout of triumph and Barnes scrambles back into the dumpster. I hold out my hand and he passes it to me. I suck it in once, twice, three times, and a fourth for good measure. My body relaxes as sweet medicine and air fill my lungs.

"Thanks," I finally manage to say. "That's the worse attack I've had in a while." I sit up better and he asks me,

"How long have you had asthma?"

I cough and reply, "My whole life. I had hoped it was getting better." I take another puff.

Barnes keeps asking me questions and we talk for hours in that dumpster, as if we've known each other for years. I finally get around to asking him what the heck he's even doing here.

"I saw you being chased and was wondering why the famous Steve Rogers was running away from a fight." He nudges my shoulder. "Plus I figured you could use a hand."

"I had them on the ropes," I reply. He snorts.

"Sure you did." He grunts and stands up. "I better be getting home. Becca will be worried." He extends his hand to me and I take it, accepting the help up. My stomach still hurts.

"Same here. My mom always expects the worse if I'm not home by 3:30." Barnes laughs as he jumps out of the dumpster and looks back to see if I need help.

"With you, I can see why." He reaches a hand out, but I ignore it and jump to the ground, promptly managing to nearly face plant. He pulls me up.

"Thanks," I tell him as I brush myself off. "For all of that actually."

"That's what friends are for, right?" he replies. And he smiles; a real, happy, _friendly _smile.

"Yeah, they are." And I smile back. He puts his arm over my shoulders as we saunter out of the alley.

"Well, see ya on Monday, Barnes."

"Hey." He punches me on the shoulder. "My friends call me Bucky." We're both grinning like idiots and I'm pretty sure this is the first time we've both had a _real _friend.

"And mine call me Steve."

"Well, see ya later than Steve." He gives a little casual salute with his fingers and starts to walk away.

"See ya Bucky."


End file.
